Improvisation
by difficile
Summary: Balthier never thought he'd fall in love; it wasn't in the script. Balthier/Vaan.


**_Author's Notes_**: I slaved over this baby, and enjoyed every second of it. For rusty-redux on livejournal for Christmas.

I don't own FFXII. Otherwise, this would have happened.

x-x-x-x

**improvisation.**

**in the beginning.**

_i met a man without a dollar to his name, _

_with no traits of any value but his smile._

When he finally figured out he loved Vaan, his heart did not flutter against his chest. He did not get the profound urge to sprint to the top of Bur-Omisace and scream his feverous emotions into the chill air, standing on the edge of the icy precipice. He did not feel complete; he did not hear the fanfare or Faram's sacred angels sing a tear-jerking hymn into a bursting sunrise. Instead, it hit Balthier like a two-ton hammer, seemingly out of nowhere.

But love wasn't something that should come from bloody _nowhere_. Love should come from something, some kind of…some kind of _experience_ or _conversation_, some sort of prior _relationship_. But none of those damned things were established between him and the Rabanstran boy. It just happened. It must have been festering inside his subconscious, yes, lingering and waiting for the exact _wrong _moment to show itself.

He just saw him – that's all, just a glance, then a double take, and it was like some profound revelation.

_Oh hey, you're beautiful. I love you._

No. Things _weren't_ supposed to be like that. Love wasn't supposed to make him feel like an_ imbecile_. But it did just that, and only that, making some horribly contrasting mixture of self-degrading and hopeless admiration thread through him whenever his eyes traveled to Vaan. And once that curse humes seemed to call _Love_ hit the sky pirate, it made itself at home inside his heart – his heart that never knew it could harbor such emotion.

And it was all downhill from there. Starting at that moment, so early into their journey, Balthier found himself in a realm of pathetic pleasantries he used to scoff at when witnessed or heard of, but now indulged shamelessly in.

But no one could know of these emotions, not even the object of them himself. 'Twould do no good to find out, in the end, his feelings were unrequited, after all. His life was a _heroic tragedy_, not a _cynical romance_.

The Leading Man wasn't supposed to fall in love. The Leading Man was supposed to have others fall in love with _him_. But Vaan…Vaan was too young, too focused on boyish ambitions he deserved (yes, he deserved. Gods, that boy deserved _everything_.) to fall in love.

Or at least that's what Balthier thought – the Leading Man was always right…right?

The pirate kept his presumably unrequited love to himself; he would not tell Vaan, he would not tell anyone. Not even Fran, who probably knew Balthier loved the boy before the pirate himself did. Which in itself was pathetic.

But that didn't stop the pirate from wishing and watching as their journey continued.

**in the sun.**

_oooh, i want you, i don't know if i need you, _

_but oooh, i've got to find out._

In the sun, he exuded an enticing warmth only Balthier's eyes could feel, but only his fingers could hope to touch, to graze, to learn; a warmth only Balthier's imagination could muster a longing manifestation of what Vaan would feel like beneath his touch.

_He'd feel like gold. He'd feel like sand. He'd feel like nothing tangible, like the rays of the sun or residue of Flare._

All the possibilities made Balthier's head hurt.

Vaan practically glowed – no, he _did_ glow, Balthier was certain, in the desert sun. His form would sway in the rays skimming the ground as he ran ahead of the group. Vaan was like an illusion, a god-sent mirage that Balthier found himself inevitably chasing with an inexperienced heart.

Vaan fought the same way he danced, both actions always taking place under the heat of the sun. Days that Balthier felt he'd simply melt under the sun's relentless warmth were days Vaan wasn't phased the least bit, charging along the desert sands or expanse of the plains. Balthier took advantage of his already established dislike of the heat; and so his slow and lazy movements he took just for the sake of watching Vaan more intently were not acknowledged by the rest of the party members, who merely thought it was the heat getting to him.

Those fools – excluding Fran, of course. For when Balthier aimed his gun at the enemy Vaan was so close to, but did not shoot (instead preferring to watch the way he moved, so naturally with such ironic grace), it was Fran who demeaned him.

"Keep your eye on the prize when time deems it appropriate," her accented voice muttered, and Balthier snapped from his daze and cleared his throat, hurriedly occupying himself with re-loading his gun even though it was cocked.

"I know not of what you are referring to, Fran," the russet-haired man replied, his irritation poorly disguised in the privacy of his closest friend.

"Your words are the only things saying that, you realize," his vieran partner retorted calmly, shooting another arrow to lodge into the side of a coeurl.

"It is frustrating, the extent you know me," Balthier's voice was softer this time around.

"It is frustrating, the extent you do not know yourself," and Fran's voice never felt so harsh.

He never asked for this.

**in the darkness.**

_and i'm fooled by my own desire._

_i twist my fate just to feel you._

In the darkness, he was always asleep. He was always there, right _there, _with lips parted and eyes closed, dreaming of a world anew, perhaps another's touch, another's smile. And Balthier watched. That's all he did. That's all he _could _do. He'd lie alongside Vaan in their shared tent, Basch's own slumbering form completely ignored, always. No one else existed in the midst of the night, no one but him and that bronzed Dalmascan boy.

_Why do I love you?_ Balthier would find himself wondering as he stared at Vaan's cherubic face, so relaxed and at ease in the ethereal light. Each time he wondered, a voice, a thought – his own or someone else's, that of the Gods – would bite back.

_Don't question love, fool. If it was rational, we wouldn't truly know it, now would we?_

He always got the same answer. He always was silent after that.

It was two weeks after this revelation of _love_, two weeks after sleeping side-by-side with Vaan every night in a tent with that insane, gnawing urge, that the pirate dared his soul's dominion; he gave into himself and touched the boy.

Balthier's ringed fingers trembled as they neared Vaan's peaceful form, and the brunet noticed this with sickening chagrin. The long-built anticipation was enough to drive him as mad as his father. But he swallowed his pride; pride could go to hell in a hand basket because Vaan was there, right _there_, right…

The first thing Balthier touched was Vaan's hair, although he had to mentally debate on what to touch first – he felt pathetically disgusted with himself on finding the fiery frustration welling up within him; whether or not to stroke his cheek, trace his lips, or feel those golden locks. But his fingers brushed past Vaan's hair and all too quickly Balthier felt himself give in. His calloused fingers combed through Vaan's aureate locks, fingers intertwining with little tangles. He wanted to bury his hands in that thick mane, smell the the once unappealing scent of sweet cactuar blooms; but that would be too much.

His heart always ached for too much.

Vaan did not stir during Balthier's ministrations, and the pirate noted this with relief. Confidence boosted, Balthier's hand trekked down to Vaan's face, where it paused. Balthier's gaze was fiery, intense. And soon his thumb strayed from the once tense group of fingers to brush the seam of Vaan's pouty lips just _begging_ to be kissed. Lightly, mind you, quite lightly – for if Vaan were to wake…

Not even Balthier's quick-thinking mind would be able to concoct a legitimate excuse.

From the boy's lips, Balthier traced his thumb upwards to stroke Vaan's cheek, then traveled to that charming slope of his nose; everything was undeniably soft – how could an orphan, this epitome of rebellion, feel as delicate as a desert rose?

The self-satisfying urge to kiss the boy overwhelmed Balthier from the inside out, coursing through his body like the waves of the sandsea; he paused again, his fingers cupping Vaan's cheek, and he contemplated initiating this desire. Vaan's breathing had only become deeper since Balthier started caressing him, he wagered – the blond wouldn't wake with a simple kiss, Balthier was sure of it.

He neared his face closer to Vaan's, his body shifting _ever_-so-slightly in his sleeping cot. Balthier's nose brushed against Vaan's and he felt the Rabanastran's breath mingle with his own, soft and warm – he wanted to take that boy's breath away, thrive on it, steal him make him his own.

Gods, he was so close, his lips pursed the slightest bit, and—

Balthier shied away suddenly, as if a spark of electricity just coursed from Vaan's lips to his own, as the sleeping cot on the other side of him rustled – Basch. The pirate stilled, holding his own breath, and heard nothing more from the other occupant of the tent. Sleep-stirring, no doubt. Nevertheless, Balthier cast a fleeting look back to the slumbering blond before him, and with a glare directed only at himself, Balthier settled back to his own sleeping bag.

_Don't pirates usually take what they want?_ he found himself musing as he ran a hand through his hair.

_Yes. But only what they deem themselves worthy to have._

Damn that rational side of his conscience, damn it to the depth of hell. With much reluctance, Balthier dragged his hand from Vaan's golden skin and placed it by his side; perhaps another night will provide this opportunity, but the mere thought of what he would have done if Basch hadn't stirred made the pirate shudder with self-loathing – albeit it would have been just a kiss, what would it have accomplished? It wouldn't have made Vaan love him, it would have only doused one desire while igniting another.

Slumber tugged at Balthier's eyelids and his mocha orbs blinked slowly; sleep sounded tempting. He yawned quietly and fell asleep, the embedded image of Vaan in his mind.

Shame the boy never knew.

Thank the _gods_ he never knew.

**in the sky.**

_i'm comin' out of my cage, and i've been doing just fine._

_gotta-gotta be down because i want it all…_

In the sky, he was everything. He was poetry, he was prose, he was tragedy, he was romance. He was all that Balthier ever wanted but never knew he wanted until he realized too late that he _needed_ it. Needed that laugh, needed those thick eyelashes against his skin at night, needed the epitome of desire in his arms.

His yearning for Vaan was, apparently, not going to pass any time soon. It kept the Archadian awake at night and distracted during the day; a plague of both his dreams and of battle, like some sort of worm wriggling through him, beckoning him to just _go through with it already, you fool_, _what have you to lose? Dignity? Hah! Your dignity was gone when you submitted to these emotions to begin with._

It was that echoing voice that drove Balthier to the edge, that made him devise a plan to get Vaan and him alone. He did the only rational thing he could think of, the only thing that wouldn't rouse suspicion and seem sporadic on both their parts: offer Vaan a lesson in flying the Strahl. Of course, it was a rather cruel advantage that Balthier took; Vaan would never refuse such an offer. But beggars can't be choosers.

Apparently neither can Leading Men.

Vaan wholeheartedly accepted the offer with a beaming expression that Balthier couldn't help but return with a miniscule grin of his own. Albeit the pirate hadn't an inkling as to what he wanted to accomplish in this outing himself, he knew full well that it would at least benefit Vaan. And, ironically, that took precedence.

_Love has truly made me a mess_, Balthier thought as he and Vaan strolled through the landing terminals of Rabanastre's aerodome. This infatuation had been going on for at least three weeks now – he needed to take some sort of action…

Vaan's stride was long and almost jumpy in the his eagerness, while Balthier's was calm and long as usual. He watched Vaan bound ahead to the Strahl and chortled to himself.

"Eager, I see," he said as they reached the boarding platform. _So are you, you twit,_ Balthier's mind echoed. What a nuisance that voice was. At the comment, Vaan crossed his arms and grinned.

"C'mon already!" he beckoned, and sprinted up the boarding stairs into the airship. Balthier followed suit, shaking his head.

"Good things come to those who wait," the pirate chastised lightly, thought he realized seconds later that he should've taken that saying into consideration for himself.

"I've been waiting for way too long," Vaan all but complained, taking a seat in the co-pilot chair and allowing his eyes to rake across the switches and buttons of the dashboard.

"_So have I_," Balthier muttered quietly to himself as he sat on his rightful seat as captain. Vaan appeared not to have heard him, as he was indulged in memorizing the order of each and every switch. Balthier closed the boarding platform, a rush flowing through him – no one else now. Just him and Vaan.

The day progressed with an enjoyable slow pace, Balthier looming over Vaan constantly once the boy took hold of the pilot chair and began steering the mighty, dual-winged airship through the skies.

The wind was calm in the clouds that particular day, and the sun not too intense. Balthier felt himself smiling as the rays poured through the Strahl's windows onto the pair, and, after coaching Vaan a bit on turbulence, took a seat in Fran's chair. He threaded his fingers together and propped his chin up by his elbows as he watched the Rabanstran switch controls with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

"Hey Balthier?" he asked softly, uncharacteristically soft after a moment of stretched silence, and Balthier's ears perked.

"Hm?"

Vaan's eyes, which were previously locked on the trailing line of clouds ahead, landed on Balthier. The pirate's own eyes met Vaan's and Balthier noticed the subtle but ever-present shimmer of the sun reflected in those blue-grey orbs. Balthier wouldn't dare let the young boy know of how embarrassingly vulnerable he could get under such a gaze as his.

For several moments, only the sound of the Strahl's lowl murmur could be heard; Vaan broke this silence after finding his voice, quieter this time around.

"I know this is gonna sound really corny," he began, a nervous laugh following this warning. Balthier;s eyebrow quirked despite his suddenly piqued curiosity.

"But…um…"

Vaan worried his full lower lip between his strangely white teeth – a simple action that did not escape Balthier's eyes. Vaan was nervous about this, Balthier could tell, and that did nothing to quell his suddenly piqued curiosity.

"Coeurl got your tongue?" Balthier dared to jest good-naturedly, and Vaan swallowed; his adams apple bobbed once and Balthier felt the familiar, shameful urge to claim that graceful neck with his mouth. Mentally he commemorated himself on the strength of his ever-tested self reserve.

"I just really wanna thank you – for this, I mean," another nibble of those perfect lips and - _what was Vaan saying again? – _before he continued_, "_I never really thought…this would happen. Flying an airship and all."

Vaan's eyes resumed to the sky ahead quickly, averting his gaze from Balthier. The pirate blinked once at this sudden confession of gratitude, most surprising yet so _Vaan_ in its innocent sincerity, but remained silent; he wouldn't want his own interjection to prevent Vaan from continuing this endearing, ego-boosting speech. His mocha eyes searched Vaan for what seemed like ages until, finally, he spoke up again with a turn of his head.

"So thanks, Balthier. It means a lot."

Vaan flashed him a quick, toothy grin before turning back to the controls, leaving Balthier to dig up a reply in good time.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure," the words slipped from his mouth like a purr. Plan _Strahl and Rabanstran_ was working out exceptionally well so far, and Balthier felt a part of him swell with warmth and ego-inflating pride as he realized the full extent of this small flying lesson to someone like Vaan.

_I am _such_ a good guy,_ he mentally patted himself on the back and, without realizing it, started to chuckle.

"What's so funny? Did I do something wrong?" Vaan suddenly asked skeptically, scanning the controls for any sign of ridicule-worthy mishap. Balthier blinked a few times and shook the thoughts away.

"You needn't worry Vaan," the pirate assured with a shake of his head, "you're doing just fine.'

Vaan didn't look impressed at this reply and a frown pulled at his lips. "It's been a while since you laughed at me," he muttered, "…used to be a regular thing, y'know."

Balthier registered these words with confusion at first, before said confusion contorted into surprise. That was…quite true. Before _it_ happened – that whole _love _mess – he and Vaan had shared a rather odd, almost routine exchange on their travels. Oftentimes Vaan would make stupid comments or do a foolish thing, setting the perfect opportune moment for aBaalthier to throw a ridiculing comment laden with sarcasm Vaan's way. This usually resulted in banter and playful tension, and as Balthier searched through his memories, he finally grasped his prior subconscious flirting that was behind those old words and jokes.

_Love is blind and makes me quite the imbecile,_ Balthier pondered, looking back at Vaan as he replied, "I figured I'd throw you a bone or two, save you some mortification."

"I kinda miss it though," the reply was so quick, so blunt and innocently honest that it made Balthier's fingers twitch at his sides.

"You miss being made fun of?" he attempted to clarify. Vaan shrugged as he drummed his fingers on the airship's steering wheel.

"I just miss our jokes."

Balthier leaned back in the co-pilot chair and grinned. How endearing – Vaan missed the private little world he and Balthier shared.

"Then I'll be sure to give you the demeaning attention you deserve," Balthier mused, flicking his eyes over to Vaan, who in turn gave him a grin.

"Same for you."

"Hush and fly, boy," Balthier snapped, choosing to make a quick start on this old game. Vaan gave a melodramatic roll of the eyes at this and snorted. Balthier anticipiated Vaan's reply before it even passed the Rabanastran's lips.

"Make me."

"You really don't want me to do that," the pirate haughtily stated, hoping his impish grin was as noticeable as it felt when it stretched across his face. How oddly daring he was feeling that day…

Vaan cocked his head to the side. There was silent suspicion lingering in the thin line of his lips until they parted.

"Try me."

Balthier felt his restrain crumble, and hoped the eye twitch wasn't noticed by the tempting boy just _asking for it_. He stared for quite some time at Vaan with a judging gaze that masked his growing intentions set aflame. He could do it – he could kiss the boy, right then and there, fuck him good and hard in the captain's char while on autopilot, bite that neck, suck that skin—

The Archadian stirred in his seat as warmth shot to his prick like a rush of unbridled desire, and he had to force the thoughts aside with notable effort. Oh bloody hell, his self-restraint was being sapped away by that torturous boy and Balthier was loving every _goddamned second of it._

"Like I said, good things come to those who wait."

"And like I said, I've been waiting long enough."

Vaan's voice was like silk but his intentions harbored every sense of unpredictability. What were these words supposed to mean? Balthier closed his eyes at this, feeling his barricade of longing disintegrate with each word passing those chapped, pink lips. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and said nothing more as he contemplated his next course of action – yes, he was going to get what he wanted.

…He was a pirate, dammit.

**

* * *

**

Lyrics are: "Stars and the Moon" by Jason Robert Brown; "I Want You" by Savage Garden; "Stay With You" by Goo Goo Dolls; "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers.

M RATED SEQUEL/PART 2 IS TITLED "SCRIPT THIS". ;D

"I am review monster. Feed me reviews. :D"


End file.
